


Wrong Way Around

by artemisgrace



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BAMF Prompto Argentum, Bullying, Friendship, High School, Implied Gladio/Ignis, Incorrect assumptions, M/M, Pining, baby badass prompto, implied prompro/noctis, karma working real fast, rated T for swearing and punches thrown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 05:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisgrace/pseuds/artemisgrace
Summary: Gladio has some assumptions about Noctis's new school friend . . . He's wrong.





	Wrong Way Around

**Author's Note:**

> Had this idea in the McDonald's by the train station, and now it's a fic. 
> 
> More FFXV fics are in the works, so check out my Twitter to see what's going on with those: https://twitter.com/artemisgraceart

Gladio leans heavily into the wall behind him, the heat of a late spring afternoon radiating from the sun-warmed brick and sinking pleasantly into the muscle beneath his jacket. It’s not jacket weather, strictly speaking, but Iggy had said something or other about a certain measure of professional dress being required when going to pick up the prince, even if one is doing so in plainclothes rather than uniform. He’d been insistent enough that Gladio hadn’t bothered arguing, so he shifts, growing slightly too warm in jacket and baseball cap as he waits for Noctis to get out of classes for the day. 

As it is, he’s only slightly annoyed with Noct for skipping out on training so much lately; he’d probably be more upset if he weren’t so impressed at the kid’s ability to sneak past himself, Iggy, and whichever other guards happen to be in charge of getting him from point A to point B. It’s not unimpressive, but Gladio’s still obligated to be the fun police and make the prince go to training as scheduled; it’s his job, and while he could be accused of a fair number of things, he’s never been accused of being bad at his job. Thus, this afternoon, he’s stationed himself in a strategic location, one that Noct will have to try much harder to get around unseen.

Frankly, if the kid sneaks past this one, Gladio may just give him the freebee and let him go play video games with his dumb school friend without comment, leaving it to Iggy to give the responsibility lecture later. Gladio may be part of the fun police, but he’s not the only officer.

And as if summoned by the thought, Noctis’s dumb friend makes his appearance, shouldering his way out of the school through a set of double doors -not the front entrance- appearing rather intent upon his phone, staring at the screen as though it contains the universe’s greatest secrets, and likely doing his young eyesight no favors. Gladio perks up a bit, stands a little straighter; wherever the blondie is, the prince is almost certain to follow.

Blondie is a recent addition to Noctis’s life, and to be entirely honest, Gladio isn’t sure what to make of him yet. He’s pretty sure Ignis isn’t entirely decided either. They did all of the necessary background checks, of course, looked into the kid, Prompto Argentum’s background, family, friends, just enough to determine that he’s not a threat. And geez, if anybody was ever not a threat . . . 

Gladio expects the kid has another growth spurt in him before he’s done, but all the same, he’s never gonna be hitting any great heights. He’s built slight; Gladio might call him “willowy” if he’s feeling benevolent, or “twiggy” if not, but either way, he’s pretty sure that himself or Iggy could hold the boy over their heads without altogether too much trouble. Noctis probably has to look out for the chirpy little twiglet all the time . . .

Their brief investigation into blondie’s life had honestly made Gladio feel more than a little bad for the kid, and although Iggy never said as much, Gladio knows their strategist’s intense parental instincts have certainly gotten him more invested than he otherwise might’ve been. Prompto’s background? Adopted, a refugee kid. His family? No siblings, adoptive parents working abroad and hardly ever home these days. No grandparents, no cousins, no aunts or uncles. Just an empty house.

The kid’s friends? Just Noctis. Sure he seems on friendly terms with most of his classmates -though not all- but he’s never gone over to their houses, nor they to his. Again, just Noct.

It’s just objectively sad, but Gladio neither likes feeling pity, nor thinks it would be much appreciated, so he’s not going to say a word about it, certainly not to blondie, or indeed to Noctis. 

Prompto lingers under a covered walkway, out of the sun, still fiddling with his phone, the assorted jangly phone charms jingling as he rapidly taps the screen, tongue sticking just out between his lips in an expression of concentration that he’s probably unaware he’s making. He looks like a freaking baby bird, rocking on his heels over there. Gladio can’t help but let out a low chuckle at the sight, concealed beneath the brim of his cap. The chuckle fades though, as another kid comes out, one Gladio doesn’t recognize. There’s nothing specific about him to make Gladio uneasy, but he’s had enough practice looking out for troublemakers over the years that he’s got a sense about these things, and this kid is going to try to start shit. Gladio stands up a little straighter still, readying himself to intervene, should it prove necessary.

Noct would want him looking out for Prompto; Gladio doesn’t need an order to know that.

The new arrival seems to startle Prompto, who jumps a bit when a call of his name manages to tear him away from whatever he’s doing on his phone, quickly pocketing the device and giving a vague, uncertain smile; not hostile, but not friendly either. The awkward smile drops as the kid says something, too low for Gladio to hear from here, but the scowl on the kid’s face tells him enough about the tone and content of the words to know it isn’t something kind. To his credit, Prompto seems to attempt to extricate himself from the situation diplomatically, putting his hands up in front of him in a non-threatening gesture and turning to walk away before two rough hands stop him, pulling him back around and giving him a shove, hard enough to send him stumbling backwards a couple of steps.

There are more words that accompany the shove; Gladio can’t hear them, but he sees them spat out and he sees the way they sting. Okay, time to interfere; he’s not letting the prince’s only school friend get beaten up by some other random student. Gladio, launches himself away from where he leans against the wall and strides in the direction of the altercation, fully prepared to bodily pick the offender up and deposit him elsewhere, ‘cause apart from anything, the guy looks like a prick, and Gladio has never been fond of the bullying type. He doesn’t get far though, before he sees something else, something that momentarily rocks his whole world view, so to speak.

Upon steadying himself from the shove and whatever cruel words were thrown his way, Prompto straightens, looking about quickly. Gladio watches the kid’s eyes scan the near corner of the building and the structure shading the walkway . . . wait, is he checking for security cameras? Why is he-

Gladio’s train of thought is abruptly interrupted by Prompto, the boy hauling back with what seems to be a substantial portion of his body weight before throwing himself forward with a raised fist, and while Gladio hadn’t been able to hear the dialogue preceding this, the crack of knuckles meeting face is fully audible from a distance. Gladio stops in his tracks and watches as the bully goes down like a pile of rubble, tumbling to the ground with a very satisfying yelp and landing in a heap of gangly limbs. He’s not unconscious, but Gladio bets he’s gonna have a hell of a headache and be more than a little dizzy for a good while after this. Ah, but Prompto doesn’t seems to be quite done yet, and Gladio is suddenly concerned that he’s going to find himself obligated to stop blondie from sending a classmate to the hospital . . .

He needn’t be so concerned, it turns out, as Prompto reached down to haul the bully to his feet, both hands holding the kid up by the front of his school jacket, not tall enough to have the boy dangling above the ground, but the intent is quite clearly there. Prompto leans forward and Gladio watches him whisper something into the bully’s ear, and whatever it is, it’s effective, for as soon as Prompto releases the his jacket, the kid is stumbling rapidly away, looking over his shoulder with a nose that’s starting to trickle crimson. Blondie watches the kid run away, and what’s more, he gives the boy a cheeky wave bidding him goodbye.

Now that’s a power move.

Once the bully has properly hightailed it out of there, Prompto looks down at his hand, which Gladio knows well enough is going to bruise after a strike like that, the hit unskilled but . . . enthusiastic. Prompto’s attention then seems to go to his bookbag, rifling around in what Gladio can only assume is a cluttered mess of nightmarish proportions for a good thirty seconds before finding what he’s looking for: a set of fingerless gloves, which he pulls on, giving them an admiring look before closing his bag and getting his phone back out of his pocket. He’s hiding the injury to his knuckles, Gladio realizes, finding himself rather impressed. 

Blondie’s not going to get caught fighting, and he’s not leaving room for suspicion, avoiding the school security cameras and covering his knuckles. Neither the school authorities nor the prince will have any inkling of what transpired, Prompto’s seen to it. That’s something Gladio might expect of Ignis, but he wouldn’t have expected it of Prompto. He’d been operating under the assumption that Noctis spent half his time looking out for his dumb, silly friend, but now he’s thinking it might just be the other way around . . .

Something on Prompto’s phone makes a cheery “bing” noise and the boy smiles, before turning to look expectantly at the doorway he’d come out of. That’ll be Noctis finally showing up; blondie doesn’t smile for anyone else quite like that, and this time, watching as close as he is, Gladio identifies something in it, desperate, caring, and wistful . . . oh, you poor dumbass . . . but that’s something that Gladio is quite happy to not get himself involved with. If it becomes an issue, Iggy can deal with it.

His suspicion about Prompto’s recently received text is proven correct as Noct promptly pushes open the door and steps through, pace pretty much exactly as languid as Gladio might expect after a full school day. Tough shit though, the kid’s a prince, and his day isn’t over quite yet. Sorry, highness, sorry blondie.

“Beep beep, it’s the fun police,” Gladio announces cheerfully as the two boys begin to walk past, “I’m gonna need you two to pull over.”

“Dammit,” Noctis curses, not quite quiet enough for Gladio to miss it, as they both come to a stop, Prompto rapidly glancing between the shield and Noct as though watching a tennis match.

“Chill out, blondie,” Gladio jokes, “You’re gonna give yourself whiplash turning your head that fast.”

The kid stops abruptly, eyes going instead to rest upon the neutral territory of the ground between them, a bright red creeping across his features at being called out. Now this is more familiar, and altogether a very different attitude to that of the Prompto that had knocked a bully on his ass with one swing only minutes ago. Interesting, this whole Jekyll and Hyde thing the little twiglet has going on, and Gladio frankly can’t wait to take this gossip back to Ignis. The man’s going to choke on his coffee, and it’s going to be great.

“Sorry to break it to you, your highness,” Gladio says, shrugging, “but training is still a thing, and it’s a thing you have to do. Today.”

“Just give me today off, Prompto and I have plans,” Noctis tries to bargain, “Just today, and I’ll work my ass off next time.”

“What plans?” Gladio asks, crossing his arms and making what Ignis has referred to as his ‘dad face’, but in all honesty he’s curious, especially after this afternoon.

“Don’t worry about it,” Noctis mutters, cheeks going pink, and Gladio knows it’s either some horny teenager thing or something stupidly mundane.

“You’re going to the arcade, aren’t you?” Gladio’s words come out as more of a statement than a question, and he’s either correct or Noct is taking this as his excuse to hide a more embarrassing truth, because the prince nods quietly in response.

“Yeah . . .”

“I’m afraid the arcade isn’t a good enough excuse to skip training, especially considering that I haven’t spontaneously developed amnesia,” Gladio shrugs again, “which means I remember how many times you’ve already skipped. Bargaining’s not gonna work today, Prince Charmless.”

“Ugh, fine,” Noctis sighs, turning to his friend, “Sorry, Prom. Can’t hang out today after all.”

“It’s fine,” Prompto says, drawing his eyes back up from the ground and giving a smile that even Gladio can see the fragility in, getting the sense that the kid says that a lot, and not just to Noct, “I get it, the price of being royalty, right?”

“I guess,” Noct replies, “sorry, dude.”

Gladio’s still adamant that Noct comes to training today since the prince hadn’t successfully snuck away, but these two goddamn pouting faces right in front of him are making him feel . . . bad. There’s another solution though, and considering the punch he watched Prompto throw earlier, he considers that it’s probably not as bad an idea as he might’ve previously thought.

“How about blondie joins us?” he suggests, chuckling internally at the way Prompto’s head jerks up to look at him, eyes wide, looking like a freaking puppy, “What do you say, kid?”

“Can I really?” Prompto asks, as if afraid of intruding even after being given an explicit invitation.

“Sure why not, if Noct agrees,” Gladio says, looking to the prince, “What do you say?”

“Sure,” Noctis answers, and he is straight up blushing now, which tickles Gladio to no end.

“Okay, let’s go then, kiddos,” he says, gesturing toward the parking lot where a car is waiting for them, revelling in the grumbling of the prince as he follows and the sound of Prompto practically skipping along in their wake.

“Why do you have to keep calling us kids?” Noctis mumbles, “You’re only a couple years older than us.”

“Yeah, but I’m a legal adult and I’m literally twice your size, I can say ‘kid’ if I want,” Gladio retorts with a grin, chuckling as Prompto tries and fails to stifle a snort-giggle. 

“Shut up,” Noctis tells off his friend, but Gladio can hear the smile in his voice, and a glance over his shoulder reveals the prince and blondie walking close enough that their arms brush with every step.

Yeah, Gladio’s not usually wrong about people, but he’s glad to have been wrong about Prompto. 

It’s good to know that the prince has another person in his corner.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just enamored by the idea of Prompto decking somebody for being rude about himself or Noctis, especially when Noct has no idea about it. Secret badass Prompto Argentum.
> 
> How about y'all?


End file.
